


Brothers' Walk

by etienneofthewestwind



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etienneofthewestwind/pseuds/etienneofthewestwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU.  One revelation changes everything. This is the story of how Thor and Loki (and the realms) deal with the fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chaos Is Loose Behind His Wheels

Shouts of children greeted Loki Odinsson as he found himself on a strange street. Midgard, he decided after a look at the buildings and vehicles. Though the styles were different than what Loki had seen in his most recent trip through Asgard's cracks, no other place came close.

As a trio of children barreled past him, Loki realized that the children's shrieks were not from play, but terror. A gang of miniature beasts chased the costumed youth. Each beast radiated malice and similar magic signatures, unusual for their disparate appearances. One of the beasts closed in on the last child, and Loki had no time left to puzzle the creatures out. As the lead beast pounced with thoughts of the kill, Loki hit it with a blast of magical energy. The creature tumbled off to the side, and Loki threw up an illusion to conceal the fleeing children. Next, Loki blasted another of the beasts before shunting his physical presence to the other side of the street while casting an illusion of himself in his stead. Two of the beasts pounced on Loki’s false image. The beasts then fought each other, with no apparent thought of the vanished illusion.

The last beast rushed at Loki. Loki blasted the beast to the side. He turned his attention to the fighting beasts, but the pair had left the street, one in pursuit of the other. Loki cast a quick alert ward around him and extended his awareness past the small street. No further beasts headed his way, but similar magic signatures littered the town. Most were the same intensity of the creatures Loki had just fought, but one cast the others into shadow. An entire building pulsed with the power, hot and loud, acrid and bright, yet somehow none of that. In all his centuries as a mage, Loki had never encountered the like. 

Loki squinted his mage-sense and kept its direct attention off of the building. All of the other signatures moved, _lived_ as had the beasts Loki had fought. Could the building be their hive? Loki frowned as he concentrated on the various signatures. Not all of them felt as malevolent as the beasts Loki dispatched. In fact, some of them felt terrified of other signatures. Did the beasts prey on their weaker— 

Something between two creatures brushed Loki’s awareness. He blinked and then concentrated. Thin threads of the magic connected all the living signatures. Thick ropes emerged from the building, each one connected to one of the living signatures.

Except for one that lead straight to Loki.

With a frown, Loki turned his insight inward. The same magic signature as the beasts saturated his being, yet did not contaminate his own magic. That explained why Loki had not felt the taint the minute he first tapped his magic in this cursed Midgard locale, but not why he would feel like the creatures or how Loki was even in this place. Loki continued his self-examination and realized his body had lost height. He conjured a mirror to examine his form as he found muted thoughts within in his mind and prodded at them. The face in the mirror belonged to him, not the adolescent mortal he found in the back of his mind. The black hair hung the length and style Loki currently sported, but the hue looked off. The body Loki stared at was taller than the mortal boy remembered, though not nearly as tall as Loki. The youth had become as thin as Loki and the armor he—they—wore was every bit as solid and genuine as Loki's own, rather than the flimsy plastic—

Loki's eyes widened and he rushed to the side of the downed beast that still showed signs of life. He laid his hand on the transformed child's chest. His magic filled her just in time to stay death. Healing magics were Loki's weakest suit, but he knew enough to ensure she would recover. 

Eventually. 

If the force that had conjured him and others into the participants of this costume festival were negated before anything else got her.

Loki sighed as his magic reached the limit of what it could do. He frowned at the girl. The magics of conjuration and possession had not interfered as much as he feared, but he would have liked to do more. _Well you can't,_ Loki thought as he stood. He cast a ward to keep the unconscious girl from the notice of hostile entities and turned to the two dead beasts… the dead former boy and girl. Loki's hands balled into fists as he stared at them. 

Loki fought and killed by his own volition, not for others' amusement. And he never slew young. Whoever or whatever lurked behind the façade of Ethan's costume shop would pay for changing that.

In blood and pain and death. 

* * *

Ethan's may have possessed unseen depths in the magics that had spirited Loki into this body, but Loki had seen far better security wards than the place boasted. Loki simply stepped around them. He surprised the proprietor as the man removed a red-trimmed black robe. As delightful as the man's alarm was, Loki's focus was drawn to the altar in the middle of the room. In the center sat a two-faced idol from which the transformative magic flowed. Loki looked into the glowing eyes of the side facing him, and sensed a presence. Someone other than the mortal was using the magic to observe the chaos unleashed by it.

With the statue firmly in his awareness, Loki turned to the mortal mage—once Loki side-stepped to prevent his flight. "I presume you are Ethan?" he asked. As his host had heard the man introduce himself to the Slayer girl, Loki did not give the man a chance to answer. "Tell me, was this exercise your idea, or that of the… entity observing?"

"Just a spot of fun to liven up the evening," the man replied as he glanced at the other exit. "Didn't think _you'd_ object. I researched every non-generic cos—er—"

Loki put all his malice into a wide smile. "I know all about that comic _marvel_ of a supervillain from young Wells' memories. I assure you, I am not him."

"I-impossible," Ethan's face paled. "The spell can't compel an actual god, and I only invited Janus to play as he willed."

"I'm no god, and I am _not_ amused." Loki's hand shot out and wrapped around Ethan's throat. He held the man so that his feet dangled above the floor for several seconds. Loki then tossed Ethan across the room. Ethan landed in a heap—and promptly fainted.

Loki rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. He approached the idol. Loki walked slowly around the altar and studied the nuances of the energy’s flow. If Loki destroyed the idol, it would stop the energy flow and should let the possessed townsfolk reassert themselves. But what of Loki? Would he wake back in his bed on Asgard, or remain trapped in the back of Wells' head? 

Cease to exist entirely? 

Loki sighed and took a step closer to the idol. He disliked treating with beings he knew nothing about, save that they could be more powerful than him. Nor did Loki wish to show courtesy to anyone who would enjoy the night's slaughter. But as long as Loki made no promises, he might get answ—

Malicious laughter echoed in the base of Loki's skull and morphed into words: _**You really think you’re above this, Silvertongue?**_

Loki suppressed a growl at the hated nickname, even as he realized the one peering through the statue knew Loki's very thoughts. Loki met the eyes of the idol's male face and instantly knew that the being had far more power than he had feared. Loki swallowed hard and clenched his fists as he sought to further shield his mind. 

_**I brought you here, Little Giant; you can neither hide thought, nor hope to best me.** _

Little Giant? That was part of the comics' fantasy. 

The laughter again filled Loki's head. _**Fantasy with more similarities to your world than the tales of gods?**_

The being had an annoying point. Loki's father and his army had been mistaken for gods by the mortals when Odin had lead the battle against the Jotnar to Midgard. The mortals merged the Æsir with their existing beliefs. A few visits to Midgard back, Loki had read the surviving myths and found their content… unexpected. The comics Wells knew drew heavily from those myths, but even the versions that maintained the Æsir were gods had some things correct that the myths got wrong. Still, the entity behind this erred in relying on some points of the comics.

_**Is that so?** _

The air around Loki grew cold. Tendrils of air curled into colder ropes which snaked under Loki's sleeves and trouser legs. The ropes, colder than anything Loki had ever felt before, wound up Loki's arms and legs and shattered his armor. Involuntarily, Loki looked down and saw a spiral of blue skin on each of his limbs. The blue spread out, consuming the rest of Loki's flesh. 

_‘Tis but an illusion,_ Loki firmly told himself as he forced his gaze back to the idol. As his gaze met the glowing green eyes, Loki somehow knew that the entity behind it smirked at him.

 _ **If it is an illusion, touch it,**_ the being challenged. 

Loki snorted. _His_ illusions might be vulnerable to touch, but Loki had no way of knowing if that held true for the entity.

He also had no way of knowing if it did not hold true for the entity.

Loki balled his fists and forced himself to ignore the increasingly icy cast to the magic flowing through his veins. 

"What," he asked as steadily as he could manage, "could even bring mortals to know such a thing about me?"

**_You are not in another realm of your world, little foundling. In this reality, the Æsir and Vanir were gods, and when you strip out the parable, the myths you read hold a wealth of truth._ **

Another reality? Æsir as gods? Such concepts were so foreign to Loki as to be inconceivable.

 ** _Yet not impossible._** The entity's amusement took on a dryer tone. **_The barriers between realities are malleable. Just as the myths spread to your own existence, basic facts of a world related to yours came here and were altered for entertainment._**

A related world… So this being was not calling Loki the criminal Wells had admired.

Just the monster Loki's people reviled. 

_**Does not a monster do monstrous things?**_ the being asked. _**Are you so sure you don't…?**_

Loki found himself in his father's private study. He watched and heard himself argue that Thor was not yet fit to take over the throne of Asgard. His father dismissed Loki's concerns with an admonishment that jealousy was not becoming of royalty. Loki watched himself stalk out, and felt a plan forming inside his other head to force Thor to show his unworthiness… 

The plan surprised Loki, but if the Thor in the vision had not grown, it was for the good of Asgard to expose the battle-hunger hidden by Odin’s favoritism… 

**_For the good of my country,_** the entity mocked. Loki found himself back before the altar in the costume shop. _**A common justification for treason.**_

Loki flinched. "I'm not—"

**_And what would you call another Asa who let an ancient enemy into the heart of Asgard? What if Odin failed to sense them the moment you dropped your veil? What if they turned the casket on the coronation party?_ **

The thought hit Loki's gut like a punch. To think he could be responsible for— _No._ Loki shoved that thought firmly aside. He would not buckle due to some false vision.

**_A false vision you agreed with? I might have declined to pull the source Loki into this world, but when I looked through the realities, I looked in all directions. This is your path…_ **

Loki fell into the aftermath of the disrupted coronation. He underestimated Thor's obstinacy, Heimdall's willingness to enforce Odin's commands, and the time it would take that guard to fetch Odin. As a result, the journey to Jotunheim occurred and was every bit the disaster Loki feared.

Loki saw Thor banished and himself set upon the throne with the discovery of Loki’s nature fresh in mind. No one wished Loki on the throne over Thor. The more Loki sought to assert his control, schemed to eliminate Jotunheim as a threat, the more things went wrong. Eventually, Heimdall and the warriors who should have known Loki best set out to replace Loki with Thor.

In his rage, Loki had been sent the Destroyer after the group with overly broad instructions. He regretted it soon thereafter, but he could not overlook—

 ** _Treason?_** the being’s voice swirled in Loki’s head after Loki watched himself open the Bifrost. _**Committed with the same rationale that you used to disrupt the coronation?**_

Whose crime do you think Odin will find more heinous? Do you really think at this point he will not see through your plan? Or has it already occurred to you that “saving” Odin was a bad move?

“I could never setup my father’s death!” Loki hissed at the statue.

_**That** _ **is _your parent-by-blood you will intend to slay. Do not the Æsir hold blood-bonds dear? Do you truly not think the king who wished a permanent peace with Jotunheim would find the destruction of the realm monstrous?_**

"So that's it, then? I'll never be any good to Asgard?"

 _ **Your choice,**_ the being replied. _**You shall never have the pride and respect of your father or people as a loyal son, no matter how hard you strive to prove yourself. If you choose the slow descent into monsterhood, you have the honesty of the Æsir's contempt being openly expressed and fear-born respect.**_

Loki scoffed. He had many flaws, but even he knew that such respect was false. And while he hated the talk behind his back and the ill-concealed mocking—

_**You will also do more good for Asgard, for all of Yggdrasill, than you would under esteemed in Thor's shadow.** _

Loki blinked. That made no sense… 

_The shop faded into another of Midgard’s settlements. Sif and the Warriors Three battled the Destroyer as Thor and his mortal friends attempted to evacuate the town. The Destroyer shook off every attack, until Thor approached the Destroyer offering his life…_

**Do you think Thor will learn the necessary lessons so quickly, if you do not tell him that Odin died as a result of his actions? If you do not sent the Destroyer, how soon will Thor realize the effect of war on a populace?**

Loki found himself in a wealthy man's abode. The Loki of the scene felt harsher, damaged—not mad; this Loki could reason well enough—but the thoughts Loki received from him lacked any hint of remorse, compassion, or care for consequences. Loki felt only rage and the desire to inflict the pain he had suffered on others whether he was defeated in the end or not. If fact, he had risked defeat just for the sake of being seen.

_No, part of him craved his own destruction._

Loki was perplexed with how his mind could feel so familiar and so alien at once. He caught a glimpse of an endless fall in isolation.

A mortal offered that Loki a drink while he insisted that he was threatening Loki, not begging for mercy. The mortal listed and described a group of warriors—including Thor—dedicated to the defense of Midgard and then informed Loki that he had personally roused each and every one of them to seek vengeance upon his person…

 ** _You are the catalyst for Thor's transformation into the hero he needs to be,_** the entity said. Faint, cold hands lightly caressed the back of Loki’s neck. **_For the formation of the team needed to face threats far more dire._ That _is the burden destiny has laid on you. A purpose as glorious as it is thankless. And it’s one no mere hero could ever fill. But you can. You can do all this and more—_**

Loki’s eyes snapped open and his fists balled as he realized the trap the being tried to walk him into. He was _not_ some simpleton that would easily be tricked into villainy by pretty lies. Loki punched at the air before him and the city faded back into the costume shop as Loki’s fist sank into the statue. The statue crumbled into dust. 

_Well, shite._

The entity laughed as the costume shop fell away… 

* * *

_The bridge shook as Loki slammed into the roof of a mortal's abandoned vehicle. Around him, the Hudson raged under Mjölnir’s—_

**“LOKI!”**

Loki's eyes flew open, and he kicked Thor away from him. Thor landed in a heap on the floor as Loki pulled himself into a defensive position at the head of his bed. A gasp drew Loki’s eyes to the other side of his room. His mother stared at him shocked. Odin stood behind her, his expression stony. Thor picked himself up, his stunned eyes framed by a hairstyle that he had abandoned decades before—

Loki blinked as the world reasserted itself. “Thor!” he gasped. “Are you well?” 

“Am _I_ well? _You_ would not rouse no matter what we tried, and when Father sent for a healer, you jolt up looking like Lady Hel’s beasts were on your heels.” 

_At my heels, not my throat. Thanks for the assessment of my courage,_ Loki thought. “I…” _Was taken to an unheard realm, shown a terrible tale,_ Loki tried to say, but the words clogged in his brain. “…Dream,” Loki finally got out. “We were fighting Jotnar and one caught my arm, directed his power into it. My armor shattered under the cold, but instead of ice-burn, my skin turned blue, my magic froze.” Loki’s stomach fell as he realized that his magic still felt frozen. “The cold spread.” Loki could not tell the truth, but... “You touched my skin and burned.”

The queen’s soft gasp drew Loki’s attention to his parents. The look on their faces told Loki that some truth existed in the entity's tale. 

Rage bloomed in Loki.

* * *

Loki's feet pounded through snow thicker than anything Asgard knew. For that matter, the white stuff was wetter, and the air warmer, than what he now remembered encountering in Jotunheim some sixty-odd years in the future. That thought spurred Loki to increase his pace. He reached the top of the current hill, raced along it—

And tumbled to a heap at the bottom after he mistook a snow drift for part of the hill.

Loki cursed under his breath as he sat up and wiped the snow from his face. Despite the force of his landing, only Loki's pride hurt. _I did not think I_ had _any uninjured pride left._ Loki laughed at that thought. He could not stop and fell back in the snow. Tears from his laughter blurred the image of the moon above him. 

When Loki's hysteria faded, he lifted his hand and called ice. It came faster than his earlier attempts at control, but it formed unevenly and shattered when Loki tried to correct the thickness. Loki closed his eyes and against flying shards, and by the time he opened them again, his “normal” skin tone had again asserted itself over Jotun blue. He sighed and let the hand fall down to the ground. _At least I’ve enough control now to_ not _call it…_

Loki threw an arm over his eyes. He could not return to Asgard, not any time soon after what he said to Odin. And in truth, Loki was unsure he ever wanted to set foot in the realm ever again. Not after everything he had learned, everything he and his fa— _Odin_ —had said. Loki had no desire to become the person the entity had shown him, yet the truth raged through him, a betrayal that Odin would never be redress. 

A betrayal that no Æsir would admit needed redressing—not on Loki’s behalf anyway. 

Images of Asgard's reaction to his nature flooded him, and Loki flipped over and punched the ground. The wind picked up and sent a shiver through Loki's sweat-soaked body. He turned and trudged back toward the cave and hot spring he had selected for shelter. 

Tomorrow he would seek out _what_ a Jotun's nature entailed. 

* * *

The Halloween-wrecked chaos had calmed as far as the residents of Sunnydale were concerned. The one Ethan Rayne had accidently invited to play in Janus' stead knew better. The effects of the possessions would reverberate in those who wore the cursed costumes for months, even years down the road. And as for those few who were possessed by actual foreign minds instead of their mind's idea of their costume... Well, not only would those possessed carry deeper and longer marks of that night, echoes of the possesseds' knowledge would remain with the possesser. Though the summoning to Sunnydale would pass itself off as a strange dream, flashes of insight would ripple up from the subconscious at opportune—and inopportune—moments.

And then there was that Loki.

The one would not allow the “future” knowledge to remain long. Still, it was mere sportsmanship to allow that Loki to show what course it would set him upon. After all, for every Loki that embraced the role of villain, there was one that remained loyal to Asgard. All those Loki's were unique, yet their lives followed certain patterns.

A tug on the one's magic signaled that that Loki's path was no longer nebulous. The one looked up the time stream.

_**Ho-ho. That** _ **is _different..._**


	2. What I Need to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor sets out to bring Loki home.

_"Father, am I cursed?" Loki's anger grew as his words only fueled a worse suspicion._

_Odin's eye darkened as he turned to Thor. "Leave us. You too, Frigg."_

_"Father_ _—_ _''_

_"YOU HEARD ME! CANCEL THE HEALER AND BE ON YOUR WAY!"_

_Thor's entire posture stiffened, and for a minute, Loki feared that Thor would be fool enough to cross their father. "Of course," Thor bit out. He turned and bowed his head. "Farewell, Brother. Be well."_

_Once Loki has alone with his father, Odin glared at him. "HOW_ DARE YOU _SNOOP THROUGH RESTRICTED RECORDS!?"_

* * *

 The celebration following the announcement of Thor's upcoming coronation had gone on for three hours already. Not a long time by Asgard's standards, Thor expected the celebrating to last well into the night.

Thor forced a smile and politely accepted Baldur’s congratulations. Fandral came over, threw an arm over Thor's shoulder, and loudly insisted that Thor attend his friends. Baldur swiftly—and graciously—excused himself. Fandral led Thor to a table in the corner of the palace’s great, golden dining hall.   Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg sat on one side. Across from Volstagg sat his wife, Hildegund. “You know,” Thor said as he set his half-full mug of ale on the table. "I should chide you about interrupting nobles, but I grow weary of the same conversation."

"And of merriment," Fandral rejoined. "It's one thing for you to slip out early from battle-feasts, but it will do you no good for your subjects to think you unhappy to rule them."

"I am unhappy that my brother will not be at my side for the coronation."

The rest of the table looked startled. Volstagg even quit eating. "Surely Loki will return to see you crowned?" Sif asked.

“I had assumed, but when I asked Father about his return date, he reminded me that he had told me to cease my questions decades ago.”

“What could Odin have him doing that’s important enough to miss the coronation?” Volstagg asked.

“ _Is_ he doing anything for Odin?” Hogun said softly. “All we really have is conjecture and rumors based on the king’s past words. Perhaps he’s in the dungeons.” Hogun held up a hand before Thor could protest. "I do not wish to offend, but Loki has caused trouble in the past."

"Mischief," Fandral scoffed. "Nothing that would incur that sort of punishment.”

“His antics have left him unpopular with the nobles,” Hogun said. “If he enraged the wrong person, it would cause political nightmares. The All-Father may have found it expedient to enact a short-term punishment to head off such a stunt. Or to keep an over-raged noble quiet."

To Thor's surprise, Volstagg nodded absently as he finished off a bread roll.

“It's been what, fifty years?" Fandral said. "Surely the All-Father would release him for this."

"Nobles have long memories. Besides, Loki is loath to admit his wrongs. I doubt he’s done himself any favors.”

Thor frowned at Sif. He knew not what had soured her opinion of his brother, but Sif held her grudge as well as any of her fellow nobles. “Loki is no more stubborn than any of the rest of us.” He looked over Sif’s shoulder and saw his mother talking with the Lady Ran. Many had commented on Queen Frigg’s sadness in the wake of Loki’s departure. Had she some knowledge Odin had forbidden her to share?

Sif’s snort drew his attention back to the table. “And when did Loki apologize to your tutor for accusing her of tainting his milk? I’m sorry, Thor, but if Hogun’s right, you shall not see Loki for a long time yet.”

“But Hogun’s not right,” Thor said firmly. “And such matters are not fit for speculation.” Thor looked around the table. Once satisfied that everyone had heeded his point, Thor lifted his mug. “Now, I believe Fandral pointed out that this was a celebration.” Thor drained his ale and tossed it over his shoulder. “ANOTHER!” he cried as the mug shattered on the floor.

Other cries soon followed his.

* * *

 “Worried about your kingship?”

Thor blinked at his mother. “No, why?”

Frigg set her handloom on the small table next to her seat. “You are usually not so quiet during our visits. What troubles you?”

“Loki,” Thor admitted, though reluctant to address a topic his mother found painful.

Frigg sighed. “I know you want him at your coronation.”

“It’s not just that. A few days ago, I mentioned my conversation with Father to some friends. It was suggested that Father might have imprisoned Loki to appease some noble. I ensured the speculation would not spread, but…”

“But it got you wondering. Your brother has his share of critics and the nobles need a… delicate approach sometimes, but they know better than to cross your father on the matter of family discipline.”

“I did not think it true,” Thor said as he relaxed. “Not truly, anyway. But Father _is_ concealing the reason behind Loki’s absence. He did not even let us say goodbye.”

A shadow flickered across his mother's face. “I know you feel the need to look after Lok—”

“‘Tis not that. Well, not just that. I am to be crowned king soon. Even though ‘tis only under Father until his full retirement a century hence, I need to know the things Father keeps shadowed. I need to know his reasoning, so that I do not act at cross purposes.”

“You are not king yet. It is not necessary that he share everything today. And some of your Father’s secrets are not easy things for him to speak of.”

“Yet you know them, do you not?”

“Some of them.” Frigg touched Thor’s cheek. “You’ve grown from the boy who used to pretend the columns over there were marauders to subdue, but you are still young. Knowledge will come in time. Just remember, your father loves you both, and has always acted with the best of intentions. But sometimes to love your family is to accept their actions.

“To accept that sometimes your love is not enough,” Frigg finished softly.

* * *

 “We should go on an adventure,” Thor told the Warriors Three a couple weeks later over a meal in his private dining room. The declaration did not meet the immediate enthusiasm that Thor expected.

“Forgive our surprise,” Fandral said as Volstagg tucked into a pheasant’s leg. “But you have had little enthusiasm for adventures since Loki’s departure.”

Thor nodded. “Because he should be at our side. But after my coronation, I may never have a chance to leave Asgard for a mere adventure again. I would like the chance to make one last story with you and Sif. And… I may have been remiss as your friend. Just because Loki’s removed from our fun, should not mean you do without two friends.”

Hogun and Volstagg exchanged looks while Fandral smiled brightly. “Right. Well, we’ll have to ask Sif if she ever shows—” As if summoned, Sif threw open the door to the room. “Sif! Good of…”

Fandral trailed off as Sif entered. Still in her gray riding cloak, Sif looked several shades paler than normal and appeared on the verge of shaking. A cold weight formed in Thor’s stomach. “What troubles you?” Thor asked as Fandral voiced his own inquiries.

“Loki. He’s—” Sif plopped into a chair. “I had a quick message for Heimdall. He and the All-Father wer—” Sif swallowed hard. “When I approached, I heard Heimdall say that he had scoured every rud of Jotunheim—” The group stiffened at the mention of Asgard’s ancient enemy—“After Loki’s warning, and that he had seen no forces amassing, but as Loki was still masked from his sight—”

“ _WHAT_!?” Thor exclaimed.

Sif glared before she continued, “Heimdall also said that as they knew not how Loki vanished from Asgard, if the talk he reported _was_ serious, we could be vulnerable.”

Thor felt as if he had taken a hit from Gungnir. “Loki was spirited to Jotunheim?” he said. “He was spirited away, and Father not only has failed to remedy the situation, HE HAS KEPT IT HIDDEN!?” With a roar, Thor stood and pounded his fists into the table. The table split and spilled its contents on the floor.

"HOW DARE THEY!? AFTER THE LESSON FATHER TAUGHT THEM A MILLENNIUM AGO, HOW _DARE_ THEY EVEN THINK OF SUCH AN INSULT!? AND HOW _COULD_ FATHER _NOT_ CRUSH THEM!?” Thor kicked a fruit bowl into the wall where it shattered. Thor’s breath heaved in and out as his nails dug into his palms. After a few minutes of staring at the shards, purpose filled Thor. “My friends, we must remedy this. We ride into Jotunheim to retrieve my brother.”

His friends voiced various protests: “That 'tis not why I brought this news.”

“‘Tis forbidden!” Fandral said.

“What if they kill Loki the moment they see the Bifrost?” Volstagg asked.

“SO I SHOULD LEAVE HIM THERE!?”

“He got a message here,” Hogun said. “That could mean he’s escaped, just not gotten off-world. Jotunheim is far larger than Asgard, and even here, one individual is not so easily found—more so when he is an illusion master.”

Thor growled, but recognized the wisdom in Hogun words. This was no mere adventure he proposed. "Then we plan," he said, “to draw Loki to us. Most of your people resettled in Vanaheim, correct?"

Hogun's jaw clenched a minute before he replied. "Yes, many of us have Vanir ancestry."

"Good. We'll use that to go to Vanaheim and find a Nidavellir trade ship."

Sif frowned. "No Dvergr will take us to Jotunheim. The Dvergar may be underhanded, but they have more sense than that.”

“That’s why we will not ask _them_ to take us to Jotunheim,” Thor said as a sense of smugness filled him. _Is this how Loki felt whenever he shared one of his convoluted schemes?_ With that thought, Thor’s mood evaporated.

“Are not sly tricks are more Loki’s forte?" Fandral asked.

"It matters not," Volstagg said. “We won’t get past the Gatekeeper. What?” the rotund red-head said. “You think the All-Father would fail to give him strict orders on this?”

“Heimdall is said to see and hear all,” Fandral remarked, “but surely his senses are not as keen as all that.”

“More than that keen,” Sif said, “but, like all of us, he does not necessarily heed every little detail his senses perceive.”

“Then pray my father yet keeps him distracted,” Thor said, unconcerned with the darkness in his tone. He turned back to Hogun. “So what else shall we do on our visit to your people? I hear some of Vanaheim’s mages put on shows with perception-magics.”

Sif and the Warriors Three sighed and exchanged looks.

Thor suppressed a scowl at that. Granted subterfuge _was_ Loki’s forte, but surely they did not think him completely inept. “Come, my friends. I assure you; it will be a proper last outing…”

* * *

 The tavern was rundown and low-class. In the corner, next to a low fire, a bard plucked a lute and warbled some tale of a mining accident and lost love. Thor scowled down at his abysmal drink. The insipid music only underscored Loki’s absence. Loki always felt that Asgard's bards should bring more variety to their songs. He had always insisted they sample local music whenever they traveled. Loki never failed to share his opinion on said music, whether cutting or complimentary.

However inexplicable said opinion might be.

Thor quickly swallowed the rest of his drink before he looked around the place. Nidavellir held more beauty than Thor had expected, with its dim, distant suns and so many buildings carved out of the earth. However, while Dvergar were many unpleasant things, they _were_ fine craftsmen. Even this place, a shack by Nidavellir’s standards, showed expert crafting and fine detail. The walls and stones interlocked so tightly, that Thor could not tell exactly where the half carved out of the cliff face joined the constructed half. Motifs carved into the walls depicted Nidavellir landscapes, which included a distant view of the mountain range that held the tavern—and contained Nidavellir's inter-realm trade zone. The door opened, and Thor watched the newcomer duck through.

_Finally!_ Thor thought.

A different hue than the few Dvergar that sported blue skin, the creature stood four feet higher than the Aesir. He had the tell-tale lines of a Jotun etched into his skin, but the lines looked less gruesome than the drawings in the royal tutor's book. The Frost Giant wore a Nidavellir-made outfit of greens and browns that made him look almost civilized. A silver broach shaped like a raptor on the creature's left breast indicated he was the one they wanted.

Unfortunately, he was not alone.

Two other Jotnar entered after their target. Thor saw the worried looks Hogun and Volstagg exchanged in their corner. So many Frost Giants could prove problematic, even for an elite group of warriors like Thor and his friends. If a fight broke out, Thor had no doubt the Æsir would emerge victorious, but Thor might have to resort to Mjölnir. Which could not fail to alert the All-Father to their location.

_Besides which, we_ need _the beast's aid,_ Thor reminded himself. As much as he would love a fight at the moment, they could not afford one. With a sigh, he turned to Sif as the Jotnar sat. Sif raised an eyebrow. Thor nodded once and stood. Sif frowned, but rose from her own seat to join Thor as he approached the Jotnar’s table.

Thor slid into the free chair and sat across from the target. It caused the fabric of the clothes Hogun had procured to bunch uncomfortably, but Thor ignored it. They could not afford to allow the Jotnar to perceive weakness.   "You are the trafficker called Himinglævir?" Thor addressed the target as Sif snagged a chair from the adjacent table and sat beside him.

The Jotun's red eyes narrowed as a slate-grey Dvergr wench set mugs of ale in front of the Jotnar. "Your attempted mimicry of the local accent just butchers that name further," he said. He had a deep and gravelly voice.

"I just repeated what I heard, Trafficker.” The Jotun seemed less than mollified by Thor’s words. “What would you prefer I call you in our dealings?”

“We have no dealings,” Himinglævir rumbled. He grabbed his mug and drank some ale.

"Yet. That is why we sought you out."

Himinglævir's men sat straighter in their seats and glowered at them. “We require passage for six to Jotunheim,” Thor ignored the Jotnar’s attempts to intimidate. “We are prepared to pay a handsome sum.”

“How _generous_ of you,” Himinglævir sneered as he placed his mug on the table. "Jotunheim is a closed realm."

"It's supposed to be," Thor said. "But even the All-Father knows that not that all worlds obey his embargo."

The man on Himinglævir’s left stood and slammed his hands on the stone table. Conversation in the tavern ceased as all attention turned to them. Almost all, Thor realized as the Jotun sat again at a gesture from Himinglævir. The trafficker's right-hand man looked towards Fandral's corner. One large blue hand now rested closer to a belt-worn dagger.

Himinglævir's eyes sharpened as he looked Sif and Thor over. "You are no Vanir," he said with a pointed look at their garb.

"What of it? You're no Dvergr," Thor countered.

"I don't pretend to be." Himinglævir reached into a coin purse. "Odin Frost-Thief might tolerate young upstarts with no memories of the last war seeking another, but Laufey is not so forgiving." Himinglævir tossed a few coins on the table in front of them as he stood. "Here. Book yourself passage to the badlands. You'll get enough violence to sate even Æsir tastes."

"That is not acceptable," Thor said as he blocked the trafficker's exit. Himinglævir's red eyes narrowed. "Please," Thor forced himself to say as Himinglævir's men moved his way. "I swear to you, I look to start no war in this trip." _Not until Loki's safely home._ "We just need safe passa—"

"Illegal entry _is_ an act of war." Himinglævir spoke like a tutor to a dense pupil. "One I will not facilitate."

Himinglævir stepped past Thor. Thor spun quickly and grabbed the trafficker's arm. "You must n—"

The arm Thor had grabbed flew at him. Before Thor could react, Himinglævir had backhanded him in the mouth.

"Thor!"

Himinglævir jerked his arm free. "So she speaks," he said as Thor realized that the other Jotnar had drawn their daggers. Around the bar, the Warriors Three drew their own weapons. The mage Hogun found edged toward the door. "You should use that tongue to teach your man propriety."

Thor clenched his fists. "Why you—"

"WAIT!" Sif stepped back and bowed her head to Himinglævir. "We apologize for giving offense. It was not intended. He is just distraught with worry over his brother, who we believe—though circumstances out of his control—may have ended up on Jotunheim."

One of Himinglævir's companions snorted. "An Æs would stand out."

"My brother is a master of illusion. As is one—"

"Gunnlod refers to your manner," Himinglævir said. "Your brother is not roaming Jotunheim unchecked. Take your search—"

"You must help us!" Thor protested. "Whatever your price, we will meet—"

This time, Himinglævir's blow caused Thor to see stars and stagger a few feet back. "Learn to take no for an answer, Little Æs." Himinglævir spoke softly, yet his cold tone conveyed more anger than Odin’s shouting ever did. "My loyalty is _not_ negotiable."

Fandral swung at Himinglævir's second man. The Jotun blocked the blow with a shield of ice. The shield held, impossibly unmarred as Fandral's magic-infused blade skidded over the surface.

The tavern erupted as everyone scrambled to escape or join the brawl. A distressing number opted to defend the monsters. _Should have expected as much from Dvergar and creatures that would willingly associate with them,_ Thor thought as he ducked a blow from Himinglævir's opinionated crewman. Thor grabbed a nearby table and swung wide, forcing Gunnlod and some green-skinned creature to fall back. In the back of his mind, Thor could feel Mjölnir's desire to join the fight, even as his own fingers itched to call the hammer to him. Thor ducked a thrown chair and lost his grip on the table as Gunnlod slammed a club of ice into it. Thor rolled away from a Dvergr's dagger and saw Sif parry a blow from Himinglævir with her sword, which half-remained in her Vanaheim-acquired travel pack. Himinglævir's ice blade struck the pack, which tumbled at Himinglævir's feet when Sif pulled the rest of her blade free.

Thor grabbed a chair and lobbed some Kree in the head with it as he debated slamming Mjölnir about while the hammer stayed concealed in his own travel pack.   It was at that time a bright light filled the tavern and Thor had the odd sensation that he could smell the colors around him.

* * *

 "…The first aid kit."

A woman’s voice cut through the haze in Thor's head. _Sif?_ he wondered. He had been fighting next to her. Now he laid flat on hard ground, and felt more than half asleep.

"Do me a favor and don't be dead."

Sif would never plead like that. Even had she feared Thor's death, she would threaten retribution. The realization jolted Thor awake. The first thing his eyes landed on was a vision. Deep brown eyes that he could sink into, lighter hair that whipped about a face that could pass as Æsir and framed by light.

And then the moment passed. Thor looked around and realized that his friends and Mjölnir were nowhere nearby. Thor scrambled to his feet and called Mjölnir as the woman's attention shifted to the landing site under their feet. "HAMMER!" Thor's voice came back to him as the woman called to her companion, a shorter woman with darker hair. Thor frowned as his call registered. Hammer was merely part of Mjölnir's name.   "HAMMER!" he called again as the woman he woke to pulled something rectangular from a pouch and held it over the ground.

"Dude, we can tell you're hammered," the second woman said. The odd expression made Thor realize that they spoke a language that he had never encountered. "It's pretty obvious." Thor wondered why he had understood the first woman before he woke. The All-speak needed line-of-sight to engage.

"HEIMDELL!" Thor called as strange music emanated from the rectangular object. "FATHER!" Thor roared as a memory came to him of his father on Nidavellir. The title came out in the native tongue.   Thor frowned. At his age switching back and forth between All-speak and the Æsir tongue should be effortless.

"Erik, I'm going to have to call you back,” the first woman spoke into her device. “That subtle aurora exploded and I need to document—"

"FATHER! HEIMDELL! OPEN THE BIFROST!" Thor stepped back and watched the sky as nothing happened. With Heimdall’s all-seeing eyes, the gatekeeper should understand the request in any tongue.

The first woman turned to the second. "Take him to the hospital. I'll sta—"

"No way! He's huge and—"

**_"HEIMDALL!"_** Thor roared.

"Just some guy who had an accident."

**_"OPEN! THE! BIFROST!"_ **

"It's fine, Erik. Just get out here. I'll have my new intern, Marcy—"

"DARCY!"

"Pick you up."

**_"PLEASE!"_** Thor begged. The sky above Thor stayed closed and the wind calmed.

"YOU!" Thor strode toward the shorter woman. "Where is this?"

"Uh," the woman stepped back. "New Mexico?" Her words did little to answer his question.

"What realm—?" Thor stopped his advance as the woman produced what looked like a miniature version of the pellet throwers the Lupnar used. "YOU DARE THREATEN THOR, SON OF ODIN WITH SUCH A PUNY—"

Two wires leapt out of the device. Before Thor could react, pain raced through him as every muscle cramped. The pain blocked his ability to think. As his vision turned white, he felt himself fall.

* * *

 Unlike the Dvergar stun-spell, the device the short woman used on him had fewer aftereffects. Thor felt sore, but not nearly as much as he did when he first woke in Nidavellir’s holding cells. In fact, his head hurt less than when he first woke up in this desert.

Thor jerked fully awake as he sensed someone's approach. He found one of his captors approaching with an odd weapon—round with a flimsy-looking metal blade no larger than a fyr tree's needle. It looked as harmless as the weapon that felled him.

"Relax," the man said as Thor pulled his arm away. "We just want to take some blood."

"How _dare_ you attack the son of Odin!" Thor shouted as he shoved the man away. Thor stood and punched another man as he spotted the door.

More guards—torturers?—approached Thor as he sought his escape. Thor fought them, but to his surprise, he had trouble. A few grabbed him. They slammed him against a glass window and something stung his rear. A figure in the prison's hall caught Thor's attention.

"Loki," he breathed. Then the blond turned, his resemblance to the long-missed face hidden. Exhaustion sprang upon Thor.   _Brother_ , Thor thought as he felt himself fade. _You must feel so alone_ _…_

* * *

  _"YOU DARE CRITICISE ME?" Thor roared. "I KNOW ABOUT LOKI! HOW_ COULD YOU _LEAVE HIM TO_ _—_ _"_

_A slap across his face cut Thor's words off. Thor gaped. His father had never physically struck him before._

_"YOUR BROTHER'S FAILINGS DON'T EXCUSE YOUR OWN!" Odin roared._

_"Failings?" Thor said, suddenly bereft of the energy to shout. "That's what you call_ _…_ _You're a fool."_

_The rage in his father's eye turned to uru. "Yes," Odin said. "I_ was _a fool. To ever think you were ready." In an instant his demeanor lost any trace of Thor's father and only the king of Asgard stood before him. "Thor Odinsson, you are unworthy_ _…_ _"_

The memory Thor had lacked earlier ran through his head as he pretended that he still slept. From the movement around him, Thor’s ruse was successful. Before long, he was left alone. Thor opened eyes and stared at the bland ceiling. He had caught enough conversation while he feigned sleep to know it a place of healing rather than a prison. Though to rely on something as primitive as stealing blood…

Thor pushed that thought out of his head. Whether or not the place had done him any good, Thor's head had cleared of the fog that had filled it upon his arrival. Some gaps remained in his memory of Nidavellir, but Thor could reason clearly. He would worry about where his father had sent him after he escaped this place. A cautious look around confirmed that he was alone.

And, to his pleasant surprise, the room could not be easily seen into.

Thor jerked his arms up. The restraints held. Disbelief flooded Thor. He felt no magic from the binds, so he should have snapped them with little effort. Had his father made him into a weakling? Thor's vision blurred at the thought. _No! I will not allow it!_ Thor continued to strain against his bonds. He would not spend his life locked up like the madman the healers took him for.

With time, Thor managed to pull one arm out of its restraint. He quickly freed the other arm and stood. The uniform these folks garbed their insane with looked to be thought up by an inmate: a flimsy tunic with an open back and no other attire. It made an odd sense. Only a lunatic would wear such garb, so it would be easy to spot an escapee.

Thor slipped over to the door and studied the hallway. Healers and patients both could be seen moving about, but at the edge of Thor's vision, a sign suggested a changing room. When the hall cleared, Thor easily stole his way across. To Thor's pleasure, he quickly found a healer's uniform—not that sturdier than the tunic, but at least they covered enough to block the chill air.

One wall sported coded map of the building, and Thor memorized it before he left the room. Thor slipped out a side entrance without trouble.   He started to explore the settlement when something hit his back. Thor fell to the ground, winded. As he pushed himself up, he heard footsteps.

"I swear, I'm not doing this on purpose."

* * *

  _"Father's watching him. I saw one of his ravens outside the hospital."_

_"Huginn or Muninn?"_

_"Doesn't matter. Neither of them could have missed my probe. Father'll know soon enough that I fled to Midgard. Unless Heimdall recognized my magic. Then Father already knows, and the odds are that half the court does too. Bloody gossiping Einherjar..."_

 


	3. And Here We Stand

_Loki thought the tavern rundown and low-class. But it was warm, and he found the music pleasant. Loki hummed idly along and nursed his ale. A shadow fell over his corner table._

_“You’ve had a rough time, Frosty. If it helps, the ‘Wise One’ knows jack shit about Ha’gelon-class Elementals. That's you, by the way.” The shadow’s owner sat across from Loki. Loki looked up to give the man a piece of his mind. His jaw dropped instead…_

* * *

"I cannot believe you acquired _that_ lazy bilgesnipe instead of coming to me," Amora said as she stalked into the warriors' practice area. She gestured sharply behind her, where Dofri sat. "Do you not think I miss Loki?"

Hogun and Volstagg exchanged looks with Fandral. "We wished to avoid Heimdall's attention," Hogun said.

Amora scoffed as she crossed her arms. Fandral absently admired the few strands of golden hair trapped against her breast. "Not only did that fail,” Amora said. “ _That_ mage lacks the power to neutralize the Dvergar’s unconsciousness spell.”

"Had you come with us, you would be punished by Odin as well," Fandral said as Sif joined them. He put as much charm into his words as possible. Amora, as ever, seemed immune. "We may not share Thor's banishment, but we are not without censure."

"You only appreciated Loki's skill when convenient!” Amora snapped. “If you missed him enough to take that risk, do you not think I, who share the gifts you disdain, would be as willing?"

No one answered. Fandral, for one, did not want to tell Amora that Thor would never have gone to her, even had he shared his scheme while in Asgard. Still, the enchantress had a point. And Amora's performance could not have been worse than Dofri's.

"So what do you plan now that you know Loki has made his way to Midgard?" Amora smirked at their alarmed expressions. "Peace. Heimdall cannot see through my veil.

"Nor am I restricted to Asgard," she added.

Sif stepped forward. "Perhaps we should continue out of the Einherjar's sight."

"They can not hear us," Amora assured them.

"It matters not," Hogan said. "Heimdall will not send anyone to Midgard during Thor's banishment. Further, Loki did not call for Heimdall. There is more to his absence than we presumed."

Fandral nodded reluctantly. "Odin spoke of Loki's failings before Thor's banishment."

Amora snorted. "Odin _always_ talks about Loki's failings. Tell me, would you call Heimdall if you thought an enemy could follow you home?"

"You think Loki still needs help," Fandral realized.

"Everyone needs help at times," Amora said. "But I think Loki can take care of himself. I also think there is more to his absense than we know. It would be wise to find out what."

"Odin will not share," Volstagg said.

"And Loki is too powerful a mage to find against his will," Amora said. "Not without the help of a blood relation. Preferably one who might wish to know his brother is closer than he thinks."

"What part of banished eludes you?" Sif demanded.

"What part of mage eludes _you_? Get me something of Thor's—something personal—and I _will_ reach him."

* * *

Jane Foster was as kind as she was beautiful. Not only had she dropped Thor off at the healing house—a move that she could not have known was unnecessary—but she transported him to her place and provided him with clothes and food. After Thor had consumed what little Jane had on hand, she then took him to a tavern across the road.

"So what did it feel like? Could you breathe? How long where you in there? Do you remember what was on the other side?"

Unfortunately, she was also as curious.

Doubtless, the lady's drive served her well in her studies. Studies that Thor regreted the need to misdirect Jane on. Exiled though he may be, Thor still had a duty to protect Asgard's secrets. Even on something as well-known as the Bifrost.

"Dude, I can't believe you ate an entire box of pop tarts and remain this hungry."

While Darcy was not as kind a person, she provided welcome distraction from Jane's interrogations. Thor looked up as Darcy approached the table, followed by a man old enough to be her father. Doubtless the former tutor Jane had mentioned. "Erik Selvig," the man answered Thor's query. "I understand you claim to be _the_ Thor Odinsson of Norse myth?"

Selvig's voice held the same tone as the healers that had presumed Thor mad. Thor could understand. None of the Æsir had returned to Midgard since the Frost Giants were driven out. And Thor certainly lacked a "godly" status at the moment.

"I was but a babe when my people last visited your planet," Thor said. "I do not know what these Norse say."

Selvig scoffed, but before he could say anything, the wench behind the counter called out, "Hey, Jeb! How's it going with that satellite you found?"

Thor turned. A fallen satellite in the area of his exile was an unlikely coincidence.

"Damn men in black showed up and kicked everyone out of the crater. Said the thing was radioactive. As if we all lack the brains to wave a Geiger counter at anything that falls from the sky. Damn government just wants to keep the discovery from getting out."

"Discovery?" The wench sounded as skeptical as Selvig. "You're not still going on about that thing being extraterrestrial, are you?"

"No space agency would use such a fancy hammer." Thor leapt to his feet at Jeb's words. "If you'd just—"

"Excuse me, was this hammer unusually heavy?"

Jeb snorted. "I'll say. Old Stan lost an axel off his new truck trying to pull it out of the bedrock. Poor guy hasn't even made a payment yet—"

"Where was this?" Thor demand.

"About twelve miles east of here. Off of the old 210."

"Thank you."

"You won't see anything!" Jeb called as Thor walked out the tavern. "Damn Feds have the crater locked up tighter than Fort Knox!"

Jane ran up to Thor's side as he checked the sun to get his bearings. "Where do you think you're going?"

"About twelve miles east of here. To that Old 210 place."

"It's a road," Jane said. "And you can't just go barging in there."

"They have something of mine.''

"I think the government would disagree."

"Whatever they think they have, they don't," Thor said.

"And you know better, sight unseen?" Jane said.

"Yes."

"Fine." Jane folded her arm across her chest. "What is it?"

"Mjölnir. My hammer. I—"

''JANE!" Selvig called sharply. "Can I have a word?"

Jane sighed. "Wait just a minute," she said before walking back to Selvig and Darcy.

Thor could not hear all of the ensuing conversation, but clearly Selvig meant to discourage Jane from having anything else to do with Thor. Thor did not care for Selvig's obvious disdain, but he could not fully disagree with Jane's mentor. Not after he heard Selvig's hissed warning about the trouble Jane could get into.

"Jane Foster!" Thor called as he joined them. "And Darcy," he added with a nod at the younger woman. "I want to thank you both for your kindness, but I must take my leave of you."

"I thought you were going to wait."

The anger in Jane's voice hurt Thor more than he would have thought. But he would not change his decision. "I did. For one minute. Jane, I appreciate your efforts to dissuade me from what looks like an unwise course. However, this is something I must pursue, no matter the price. I would loathe that price fall on your heads."

On impulse, Thor grabbed Jane's hand and kissed it. ''It has been a true pleasure."

Thor turned and strode down the street. He stopped at the crossroads. Before he checked for any of Midgard's landbound transports, Thor glanced back. He watched Jane and the others run toward Jane's place.

"Well, can't say I expected _that_ scene after what I learned last night."

Stunned, Thor looked down the street to his right. _"LOKI!?"_

* * *

"Hello, Thor." Loki forced himself to project an air of confidence, though Loki suspected some of his nerves slipped through. Thor always had random bursts of seeing through Loki better than anyone else could.

"It's—'' Thor cut Loki off when he all but tackled Loki into a bear hug. Taken by surprise, Loki had to take a step back to keep his balance.

"BROTHER!" Thor cried. He spun Loki around in his exuberance. "IT _IS_ YOU!"

Loki felt himself relax. Clearly, Thor still cared.

"It is so good to see you Loki." Thor squeezed Loki's shoulder as they stepped apart. Then he ran a hand through Loki's hair. "When did you learn keep illusions under touch?" Loki frowned before he remembered that his hair was bleached to a shade between blonde and brown. "Mother would love to learn that trick. Is that how you escaped Jotunheim?"

"Jotunheim?" Loki stiffened and stepped back. "You thought I'd go _there_? I admit," Loki said as his hands curled into fists, "that I said some cruel things in my frustration, but I would have _never_ risked sparking war against Asgard! I _was_ raised—" Loki cut off as Thor's confused expression registered. He took a deep breath against his ire. "Father never even told you what we quarreled about, did he?

"Of course he didn't," Loki muttered before Thor could answer. "He only lied about it for a millennium."

"Your absence from Asgard was your choice?"

Loki winced at hurt in Thor's voice. "Not entirely. I—" Loki took a deep breath as his mind raced. Thor was banished. Loki could tell him anything. Thor would not learn differently until after his return to Asgard—if then. _But is his brotherly love now worth him hating me more later?_ Loki wondered.

He looked into Thor's blue eyes and remembered the good times. _Yes. But… He deserves the truth._ I _deserve the truth._ "Let us find a place to sit privately, Brother," Loki said. "This could take a while." He walked down the street. The relief that Thor paced him without comment did little to calm the knots in Loki's stomach. He knew that the longer he delayed this conversation, the harder it would be.

"Why freeze yogurt?" Loki blinked and saw Thor's attention on some nearby shops. "That _is_ that food similar to skyr?"

"Tell me, Thor, are you still overly fond of sweets?"

Thor raised an eyebrow. "And you are not?"

A smile flashed across Loki's face, easing the tension. "Come on." He lightly bumped Thor's shoulder as he turned toward Dodo's Frozen Yogurt.

_A short delay won't hurt…_

* * *

"So because it is frozen, it shall taste sweet?" Thor eyed the white substance topped with what looked like oversized bilberries.

Across the outdoor table, Loki snorted. "The fact that they add sugar makes it sweet. The freezing process just gives it a texture that makes it more pleasing to human palates."

"Human? Is that why you got none?"

A grimace crossed his brother's face. "Dairy from cattle is worse than that from goats," Loki took a sip of his chocolate-soy tea.

Thor frowned at the reminder of his brother's odd tastes and scooped up a single "blueberry". It tasted good, and the flavor was not as dissimilar to bilberries as Loki had suggested. Still, Thor agreed that it lacked something its cousin berry had.

Loki silently stared at his lidded tea cup. Thor watched as Loki slid the cup back and forth. Except for procuring their refreshment—and his too-late warning about how those of Midgard handle fresh beverages—Loki had been silent. Loki had always had his moods, but this was different. "You do not wish to tell me why you departed Asgard."

Loki sighed and met Thor's gaze. "I do not wish to keep it from you," he said. "I'm just uncertain… What exactly did Mother and Father tell you?"

"Little," Thor admitted. "When I returned, the whole palace was buzzing that Father had sent you on your own, indefinite, errand. He merely told me that the reasons for your absence were not for my ears."

"Errand?" Loki frowned. "Father told you to be on your way after you intercepted the healer…"

"You left _then_? Loki! The only journey you should have taken was to the infirmary!"

"Do you remember why you thought I was ill?"

"You _were_ ill. I care not what Father thought, once you roused and rambled about curs… You _were_ cursed," Thor realized.

Loki sighed. ''Thor…"

"You mentioned Jotnar. Did _they_ curse you? I'll crush the lot—"

"THOR!"

Startled, Thor blinked at Loki as something cold slithered down Thor's hand. Thor relaxed his grip on the yogurt's flimsy bowl.

"Please hear me out," Loki said as he handed Thor some paper napkins from the metal box on the table. “I wasn't cursed, Thor. Though it felt so at the time. I could feel my magic's nature shifting into something I could scarcely control, and something in Father's face—I pressed him, and he gave me the truth." Loki scowled as he pulled out a fresh napkin and twisted it between his hands. "I was not born your brother, Thor. Rather, Father found me at the end of the war with Jotunheim and decided to raise me as an Æs."

"That makes no sense!" Thor protested. "Those of Midgard are ephemeral. You would have perished long ago."

"If I were merely of Midgard, that would be true," Loki said. "But at best I'm half—"

"Father would _never_ rob a dead Æs of being honored by his son!"

"JOTUN, NITWIT!" Loki yelled. He looked shocked by his own words. As a few heads turned their way, Loki covered his face with his palm. "I didn't mean that," he muttered.

"I would hope not! I know you have always doubted Father's love for you, but to even jest about Jotnar blood—"

"Not _my_ jest. Father's undoubtedly, though not without truth—"

"Father would _never_ bring one of those bring one of those monsters into Asgard!"

"Not even for leverage over a bitter enemy?" Loki asked, his expression closed and voice mocking. "Oh, Father _claimed_ Laufey abandoned me as a runt, but I'm sure he envisioned blackmail as well as a potential puppet ruler—"

"ENOUGH!" Thor stood as he hurled his frozen snack at Loki's face. Loki ducked to the side, though some landed on his shoulder. "I know not what possessed you to turn away from us, but I will not stand for this talk. Rest assured, I _will_ tell Father." Thor turned and resumed his trek toward Mjölnir.

"YEAH, GOOD LUCK DOING _THAT_ ANY TIME SOON!" Thor turned to reply, but Loki was gone.

* * *

From the way Thor had gone off, Jane had expected him to head straight toward the satellite site. Instead, she nearly passed him before he emerged from a side street. _He didn't strike me as having a poor sense of direction,_ she thought before she rolled down the window. "Hop in; I'll drive you."

"I said—"

"They. Took. _My. Lab._ Now, do you want to do this with me or apart from me?"

* * *

"Odin troubles?"

The question cut through a violent—and repetitive—rendition of the baseline to Black Sabbath's _Iron Man._ "Pepper!" Loki smiled as he set his bow on the nearby table and placed his double bass in its stand. "I didn't think you were back until midnight." Loki kissed her.

"For a change everything went right, so I flew back early."

"That is good news." Loki closed his eyes as he savored her perfume.

"I wish your day had gone so well."

"I suppose the fury of my playing told you that."

"And the sleet melting in the shower tub," Pepper said dryly.

Loki winced at the reminder of his temper's slip.

"Odin send the other raven after you?"

"I decided that if that must happen, it would be on my terms," Loki said. "I decloaked and approached Thor. I intended to explain my reasons to him and let Father and Heimdall listen in. It didn't go well."

Pepper slid an arm around Loki's waist. "If he can't accept you're still the same brother he's always had, it's his loss," she said as they sat on the sofa.

"Mine too," Loki said as he laid his head on her shoulder. "But I guess it's better to know." He stared at a knot in the grain of their coffee table as they sat down. "Of course, first I'd have to convince him that my Jotunhood _wasn't_ some tasteless prank. All Father told him—told anyone—was that my absence did not concern them."

Pepper laid her head against his. "That's… harsh. Even if he wished to keep the quarrel a secret, he could have said something to calm worry and speculation."

"Exactly. Thor seemed to think I needed to have escaped Jotunheim. I'm not sure I want to know why." Loki ran a hand through his hair. "But, as annoyed as I was at having to come out of the Jotun closet, I was glad that I need not counter yet another of Father's falsehoods. I just wish I knew why Thor would ever think I'd make that up."

"Well, they say the first stage is denial."

Loki snorted. "They study many alien princes who discovered that their brothers were stolen enemies?"

"You know what I mean. And everything you and Dolph have said about Asgard suggests human psychology applies."

"Hmm." Loki knew Pepper had a point, but that point did not help him plan. Now, Dol— "Pep, what time is it?" Loki lifted his head and turned toward her. The conversation that morning may have focused on his discovery of Thor's exile, but Pepper had mentioned a couple meetings after lunch.

"Quarter after seven."

Loki cursed and got to his feet. "I invited Dolph and Lorne for dinner at eight. I lost track of time trying to play out my stress."

"Both of them?"

Loki nodded. "I called Dolph to warn him that Asgard has a closer than normal interest in Midgard. And Lorne called me, though I was going to call and request a reading. Dolph called back while Lorne was on the line; somehow Lorne decided he needed to see us both."

Pepper nodded slowly as they started up the stairs. "Well, that should be fine. It's not like they're enemies."

 _Just clearly not friends,_ Loki thought. "Anyway, with Rolf staying over at Scott's, I gave Tara the night off. I need to start cooking." Loki frowned. "Or maybe dialing. Does that Italian place you like deliver, or is it just take away? The one with the great salad," he clarified at Pepper's frown.

"The one we went to for my birthday? I'd have to ask. So, did you find out which raven you spotted?"

* * *

Phil Coulson maintained his air of nonchalance. "I don't believe in coincidences, _Gars_ ," he said into his phone as he watched the security feed.

"I never said it was. I detected the same energies you likely did."

"Yet you waited until now to tell me about your brother and his hammer. That delay in no way meets SHIELD's reporting guidelines."

"And _I_ have never worked for SHIELD," Loki retorted. "I've not even _assisted_ SHIELD since two aliases ago."

"What do you call the rescue of Dr. Burkle and a SHIELD team from Pylea?"

"Helping a friend with inadvertent yet pleasant results."

"Inadvertent? What, you overthrew a government, rescued prisoners, and liberated thousands by accident?" Phil switched the monitor to another camera. "Seriously?" Phil asked into the silence on the line.

"…It's not like I didn't seek those results. I just didn't expect the cause—Look. I called about Thor. With his strength bound, he's going to need to sneak into the base late at night."

"That would have been the smart move," Phil agreed. "But I don't think he paid attention when you gave him the memo about his strength," he added as another group tried to take on the interloper. "Or cares much for stealth."

"He's there? _Now_?"

"Assuming the myths were wrong about red hair, and some blond linebacker doesn't have an obsession with hammers." Phil raised an eyebrow at the curse that came through the phone. He had not heard about Loki being in Korea recently. "He might have human strength, but it's above average human strength. His hand-to-hand skill is excellent, though not what I'd expect of a thousand years of practice."

"He always did love weapons more," Loki muttered.

"Now that he's torn through some good agents, why I shouldn't I spring the trap they've paid for?" Phil asked harshly. "Bruises and broken bones don't heal that fast for most humans."

"I doubt they'll heal all that fast for Thor, either," Loki replied. "Look, my father's watching over him. Some of your traps you'd rather not bring to his attention."

"Some of our traps are meant, in part, as defense if beings like your father decide to meddle in our realm again. Deciding we're a time-out room is not exactly leaving us alone."

"But you'd rather it not escalate. I have no idea what Odin expects Thor to learn here, but it's not regard for humanity. That doesn't mean you can't work toward that while he's here. Better you make friends with the next king of Asgard than enemies."

"And you're sure just running our gauntlet won't 'find him worthy'?" Phil asked. "Because a fully-empowered 'god' _will_ cause us to deploy nastier traps than planned." He gestured through the Plexiglas window to Blake, who was monitoring the call. Blake nodded and ordered all agents to hold for the moment. Thor emerged into the crater around the hammer.

"I may not have been able to read the full intent of Odin's spell, but his teachings on Midgard consisted of frail, child-like people who would worship even the most basic technologies as divine. You _needed_ our protection from the beastly Frost Giants, yet it was clear you were beneath his notice the minute the war ended. No, whatever Odin expects Thor to learn, dumping him _here_ was punishment in its own right."

Thor grasped the hammer and tried to lift it, first with one hand, then two. He fell to his knees and screamed to the sky as the rain pelted him.

"Look, I would appreciate it if you go easy on my brother, and you know my arguments are sound." After a moment's silence, Loki added, "Please."

"Hmm?" Phil asked. "Oh right. Blake, have the agents stand by until he tries for the hammer. If he's noncombative afterwords, take him in easily. If not, they can respond with appropriate force."

"Coulson—”

"That's as good as you're going to get," Phil said as May and Skye made a cautious approach. The actual order to hold back _had_ been a good call, Phil decided. Not only had Thor ceased to fight, he looked crushed as May brought the fallen god to his feet. "You can take custody of him in the morning—after we question you. I'll have a nice list by then."

* * *

Randolph vigorously defended his fantasy baseball choices against Pepper's as Loki talked to SHIELD. The former Berserker Corps member had just reached his strongest points when Loki returned to the room.

"Got your brother squared away with Coulson?" Lorne asked.

"You knew he was already storming after his hammer, didn't you?"

Randolph frowned. That seemed reckless, but most of his comrades _were_ dismissive of humanity during the war. No doubt they passed the attitude on to the next generation.

"What? I told you it was better to call now rather than later. Do you really think things would have gone better _after_ Coulson discovered your contact with Thor?"

Loki's eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps you should tell us the rest of our readings, now," Randolph said quickly. "You had to have a reason to insist I was included."

Lorne nodded, his green face grim. "Abominable Hunters have slipped in from Jotunheim again. But the questions floating through the demon bars have nothing to do with rounding up Bears or other Skips, and everything to do with human-looking off-worlders."

"Thor," Loki said flatly.

"Perhaps. I was hoping your readings would clear things up, but I could not see anything on the matter beyond what I just told you."

" _If_ they are hunting Thor, they'll not hesitate to snare any other Æsir or Jotun that crosses their paths," Pepper said quietly. "If they're not after Thor, they may not hesitate to snare him if they discover who he is. Probably won't hesitate for any other Æsir they find."

"And definitely not for any Jotun," Loki said. He ran his hands through his hair. "Well, it's not like the threat to me is new. But if Thor crosses them…" Loki cursed under his breath. "How am I supposed to even warn Thor, if he thinks I'm a tasteless liar?"

"Oh?" Randolph asked at the same time Lorne said, " _That_ I can help with."

Lorne continued. "He'll realize you told the truth of your heritage in time. Don't press him, but don't backtrack or be less than forthright—about anything. And remember," Lorne added as he reached for his Sea Breeze, "when you're with your brother, the two of you are not alone."

“I know.” Loki said as he turned away to refill his drink. “After so long behind my shields, exposing myself to Odin and Heimdall felt like being on stage."

Lorne's hand twitched around his glass.

* * *

_"I thought you said you could do this," Sif complained as Amora waved her hands over a large basin that held water, a blue cloak weighted by stones, and other ingredients._

_"I never said it was easy. Besides, I thought you said Thor wore this cloak all the time."_

_"He does," Fandral said before Sif could start another argument with the sorceress._

_"If that were true, this would be done. 'Twill take—There." An image formed on the surface of the water._

_"…Oh, if you desire another," an unexpected voice floated up from the blackness, "do not toss it over your shoulder…"_


End file.
